


Roots Run Deep

by Tobiroth



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Cloud is a Sephiroth Fanboy, Gardening is Cool, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 23:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2128695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tobiroth/pseuds/Tobiroth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cloud disobeys a superior officer during a critical training exercise and is sentenced to mopping up SOLDIER practice gyms every night for a few weeks. In serving his punishment he slowly discovers ShinRa's reclusive hobby gardener and learns a little bit about what it really means to break the rules in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roots Run Deep

**Author's Note:**

> This was posted as part two of nine of 'Happy Birthday Cloud Week' over on tumblr (username: modeoheim) - Enjoy. :)

 

The members of ShinRa's regular army, including unremarkable troopers like Cloud Strife, all kind of loathed the majority of SOLDIER despite desperately wanting to get in the program one day. Cloud's particular idolization of a few of them in particular notwithstanding he thought that most of them were absolute assholes—especially the Thirds. Newly-enhanced and eager to separate themselves from the rest of the grunts they had just graduated from this group gave people like Cloud the most shit and the hardest time.

Some of this had to do with the long-running tensions between the reg army and the SOLDIER program, surely. Cloud had experienced some of the typical stuff firsthand however and, quite honestly, it made him want to set the entire goddamn building on fire some days.

Every SOLDIER he encountered on his trip up to the 48th floor one unfortunate evening received a withering glare, guilty or not. It was already late and not that crowded, but the blond's evening was just beginning.

There was an often-overlooked door on floor 48 in a back corner, far away from the elevator and where most people tended to congregate. Cloud trudged over to it and held up his usual ID card, which earlier that morning was programmed with the right allowances to let him up to this floor, usually off-limits to regs like himself, and past this small, unimportant door. The scanner beeped green and the door slid open with a metallic hiss.

With a feeling of dread low and hot in his stomach, Cloud entered the supply closet. Floor 48 was home to a few various small rooms but mostly five large practice gyms used by SOLDIER. There were two for the Third Classes, two for the Seconds, and one gym reserved for exclusive use by the few Firsts.

After getting in trouble a few days earlier (far too much trouble if you asked him) his direct COs and the SOLDIERs whose feelings he'd evidently hurt decided that it would be a fitting punishment to mop up the floors of these gyms every night for the next three weeks. It was ridiculous and stupid, just fucking busy work really, but there was nothing he could do about it.

The closet was bigger than he expected it to be and seemingly L-shaped. Along the wall to his right was a large sink and metal shelves stocked with all kinds of things lined the others. It turned left a dozen or so feet back but Cloud did not take the time to really look around. One bare bulb above his head did not do a great job of illuminating everything anyway and besides, he could already see what he was told he'd need.

There was a large rolling bucket in the corner and a wide, rectangular-shaped mop standing with an assortment of brooms beside it. He filled the bucket with water from the sink, dropped in the slightly-dusty mop and poured industrial soap from a shelf over the whole thing. With a heavy heart he steered it out into the hallway. Gym A, the first of the Third's gyms, was closest. Immediately his nose was assaulted by the smell of sweat and B.O.

He had never been in any of these gyms before. The regular army mostly spent their time in another wing of the ShinRa building entirely and had their own facilities. The gym was very large and covered in the ShinRa colors and logo. In the back was a door to the showers (thank Gaia he didn't have to clean those—that job probably went to a guy who had fucked up worse than he) and along a side wall was a rack of practice swords and another of materia. It was hard to squash his curiosity and go check them out.

He started in the corner, heaving the sodden thing out of the bucket and moving it back and forth. Quickly Cloud realized he would be here all night if he did that. The mop was maybe three feet long in width. He retreated into the corner, pushed it in front of him, and walked it along the outside edge of the gym. Upon completing a loop he moved it in a few feet and repeated.

Bit by bit the entire surface of the gym was covered this way, but by the end he was a bit dizzy from walking around in circles. His boots were dirty too and to avoid getting mud on the just-cleaned surfaces he followed the mop in his socks. He could have dragged the mop behind him instead but then it was a lot harder to ensure he wasn't missing anything. Wet socks were worth not getting yelled at later.

After a few re-applications of water the first gym was completed. It did not take too long, all things considered, but the thought of four more made his blood boil.

Gym B was much like the first. It went a bit faster now that he knew what he was doing. This time Cloud walked in the opposite direction, unsure if he could handle any more right turns for a while. When he finished he decided to change the water in the bucket before proceeding—it was a disgusting color and full of hair, dust, and Gaia-knows-what.

Back in the supply closet he propped up the mop beside the sink as he heaved the heavy bucket into the sink with a grunt. His elbow accidentally smacked into the handle and the mop went down, knocking into something in the back of the closet that fell and shattered. And was that ticking he heard?

"Shit," Cloud whispered. Cringing, he went to investigate.

The weak bulb of the closet did little to light this back corner he hadn't peeked at before, especially as one of the nearby shelves blocked most of the light, obscuring it further. He squinted and felt around.

There were many small…cups? And—leaves? His fingertips found something hard that stretched upwards; he followed it and pressed what felt like a switch on the side.

A blinding fluorescent light turned on. Cloud turned away and when his eyes adjusted he spotted about twenty small seedlings. Most were in plastic cups, the kind the ShinRa cafeteria stocked, but a few were in clay pots. One of these was now on the ground, dirt and clay shards everywhere.

This was clearly a pet project of someone's, maybe even a SOLDIER's, and it looked very well-cared for. The ticking seemed to emanate from a small timer which was hooked up to the light with a few wires. "Yikes," Cloud muttered, and grabbed a broom.

He cleaned up the mess and stared at the small black watering can neatly off to the side of the small metal table all of this was set up on. Uneasily he switched off the light, threw the mess into the trash, added more soap to his bucket, and left again.

The Second Class gyms were a bit more agreeable and certainly had more to look at. There were some real swords on the rack in with the practice rubber-edged ones and more colors winking at him from the selection of materia. A sign read  _'DO NOT Remove From the Area! We Will Know!'_

Cloud ran this time, figuring he could at least try to get some exercise out of all of this. It took no time at all to finish and he jogged down the hall to gym D. The slap of his socked feet against the floor and his rhythmic breathing were the only sounds as he finished up this one, and after he doubled back to change his water again. There was no way he would mop up the Firsts' gym with filthy water!

The light on the plants was on when he returned. The timer must have done it. Cloud felt doubly guilty about the tiny plant in the trash, having forgotten about it during his cleaning.

His body tingled as he entered the Firsts gym. He joined the military largely because of Sephiroth, hero of ShinRa and most of the world (ignoring Wutai who understandably loathed him). He'd only glimpsed him once or twice since arriving, however. This gym was the biggest of all and looked the best-kept. There was no sword or materia rack…probably because they all had their own equipment. There were very few Firsts anyway.

Cloud, starting to feel sleepy, hurried to get it done. When finished he squished his feet back into his boots, emptied his bucket in the sink and, after a moment of indecision, took out the trash bag with the plant in it. Maybe the owner wouldn't notice.

Exhausted, he returned to his bunk and fell asleep moments after closing his eyes, the tiny closet greenhouse forgotten.

* * *

"I really expected better from you, Strife."

"Yessir. Sorry Sir."

Cloud's shoulders threatened to sag under the disapproving gaze of his Lieutenant. Fiery retorts were on the tip of his tongue too but he bit them back and made himself stand tall and as proud as he could be, uncowed.

"I understand you were assigned a janitorial chore. How is that?"

"Good, Sir."

"Really?"

"Yessir."

"…I don't want to see this happen again, Strife. Dismissed."

"Sir!"

Cloud saluted, turned, and marched out of his CO's office. When he was a safe distance away he let out a tremendous sigh of frustration. It was all so fucking  _stupid_.

That night he returned to the 48th floor with much reluctance. He brought his sneakers along after scrubbing the soles clean after his lunch break earlier that day so he could use them as he cleaned. Unable to resist, he switched on the plant light in the back of the closet. Someone had been here.

The pots were rearranged a bit and were now more spaced out to accommodate for the missing one. They looked freshly-watered too, and the watering can was a foot or so to the left of where it had been the day previous.

Cloud sighed and headed for Gym A.

By the time he was finished with the last Second Class gym the light had switched on via the timer. He took a moment to inspect the nearest sprout. He didn't know much at all about plants, unfortunately. It looked so fragile, struggling to grow tall while surrounded by so much metal and darkness.

Cloud mopped the Firsts' gym and left for the evening.

* * *

The third day on the job Cloud left a small note on the table. ' _You probably already know this, but two days ago I accidentally knocked one of your pots over. I am very sorry. I can see you put a lot of work into this.'_ Not knowing how to end it he signed it ' _sorry again'_ without a name.

The next evening the note was gone. There was no response but the note was not in the trash. Did they perhaps put it in their pocket and take it with them? The thought made him smile.

* * *

Around lunchtime the next day Cloud headed to the mail room, as he was expecting something from his mom, and he ran into Luxiere, SOLDIER Third Class.

He tried to hide, naturally—he ducked behind a group of people he was pretty sure were Turks, talking together in their suits that were a little too plain to belong to execs. The man spotted him, of course.

Cloud wilted inside but saluted the very man he'd disrespected and gotten himself into this whole mess.

Luxiere was a nice guy, sadly enough. It was not he who got upset over his actions but the other two SOLDIER Thirds also assigned to oversee their training that day. Nevertheless Cloud took the opportunity to apologize.

"I'm sorry for my behavior last weekend, Sir," he said instead of a greeting after walking over. Luxiere smiled at him after a moment.

"It's okay. I didn't take it personally. I heard you got cleanup."

"Yeah. SOLDIER gyms."

The man shifted his helmet to the same arm he held a letter in, presumably from home. He clapped Cloud on the shoulder with his now-free hand. "I hate to be that guy," he began, "But we have rules for a reason, you know? If everyone did what they wanted it'd be chaos."

"Yeah, I know."

"Good." Luxiere ruffled his hair and continued on his way. Cloud watched him leave and, in a bad mood, went to get his mail. The letter from his mom had arrived, thank Gaia, and he returned to his bunk to read it.

 _Dearest Cloud,_ the letter began. Cloud propped himself up on his pillows and smiled to himself, overcome with pleasure. He missed his mom a lot, especially when things got tough in Midgar like they had recently. His mom told him about how the weather was turning warmer in Nibelheim, a month after Midgar was in the heat of summer. She found a stray dog in town that she took home last week that she named Odin. Cloud was glad she had a companion now. She mentioned her plans for her garden in the coming months.

"Her garden, huh," Cloud mumbled. He laid down in his bed and stared at the underside of the bunk above his, thinking, for a long while.

* * *

The next week passed quickly. He was getting faster and faster at the mopping. To top it off he even beat his old record on the obstacle course during drill. Not much happened with the plants, however. They remained as well-kept as ever and were growing under the careful attentions of whoever it was. He found himself wondering who it was at slow times like while walking across HQ or eating in the cafeteria.

It would be ironic if it was Luxiere. No, he didn't seem like the gardening type.

Or—gasp—Sephiroth?

…Wait, no—wasn't Sephiroth supposed to hate plants? Or maybe that was Genesis Rhapsodos… he was positive he'd heard something about it at the bi-monthly 'Triumvirate' meetings (a gathering of The Silver Elite, Red Leather, and the Keepers of Honor).

His week was actually pretty unremarkable, the usual level of just-above-shitty, until on a Saturday, a week and two days after starting his punishment, he was called into the office of a SOLDIER First.

It was bureaucracy, that's what it was. He made  _one mistake_ and was saddled with weeks of chores, lectures from the reg army and disapproving glances every which way from the gaggle of Thirds that made it their business to know which grunts were disrespecting them, and now a reprimand from the head of SOLDIER Conduct and Discipline himself?

He really,  _really_ did not want to go into Angeal Hewley's office. From what he'd heard the man was one of the kindest around despite being the, well, head of discipline. He was fair and gave every offender a chance. Hewley could be a relentless sonuvabitch though…but only when he had to be.

Cloud deeply admired the man—Genesis and Sephiroth too. He had a poster of the three of them by his desk for Goddesses' sake. Still…he wanted to melt into his boots as he pressed a button by the scanner to get into Hewley's office. His meeting was at two, and he was a minute late due to his stalling.

The door slid open and Cloud reluctantly walked inside.

Hewley sat at his desk, and he was typing something. He looked away from the screen and smiled softly at the nervous and stiff blond, who saluted.

"Strife?"

"Yessir!"

"Please sit down. I'll be just a minute, sorry."

Cloud sat at the seat opposite Angeal's desk and resisted the urge to fidget. He made himself sit tall and straight. If he had the balls to disrespect Luxiere he had to have the fortitude to take anything he received as a result.

Angeal finished typing whatever it was and pressed a paper on his desk with an ink stamp. He then fed it through a fax machine on the wall behind him. Cloud noticed a small potted cactus on his desk and some small leafy thing on the back windowsill. That was nice—probably there to put naughty people like Cloud at ease, most likely. It didn't really work, however. Angeal finally finished up, flashed him an apologetic smile and said, "This will be quick. Thanks for coming."

"It was no trouble, Sir."

Angeal flicked open a file previously off to the side and Cloud saw his name on it. "I'm only meeting with you because the incident involved someone under my command, so sorry about that." His eyes flicked over the papers inside for a moment. "You disobeyed a direct order from a SOLDIER Third and convinced the men in your squad to do so as well, then yelled at a SOLDIER Third when he reprimanded you."

"…Yes, Sir."

Angeal shrugged and closed the file. "Luxiere told me that you're a good kid. I don't really have anything to say to you that you haven't heard from Han, I'm sure."

"…He did have a lot to say, Sir."

Angeal laughed. "I bet."

Cloud didn't know that Angeal knew his Lieutenant or any of the lower-ranked officers in the reg army for that matter. The man raked his nails through the soft-looking hair on his jaw for a moment in thought. "So you received some kind of cleanup duty?"

"Yessir."

"I see. Well, everything seems to be well-handled on your end. If I may, though…"

Cloud sat a bit straighter, looked Hewley right in the eye, and nodded.

"You and I both know that some of my SOLDIERs could use some backtalk every now and again. Sometimes, in the heat of battle, the lines between the honorable thing and what your officer is telling you become blurred." His gaze was sharp and stern. "But for what it's worth—if you really are as good as a kid as your file says, I wouldn't push it. If you progress through SOLDIER you will have more space to navigate these sorts of questions. It would be a shame if you never made it that far for giving your higher-ups trouble. Sometimes keeping your head down and listening to what they have to say has its place too."

"…Yessir."

"Good. Dismissed. I don't want to see you involved in another incident with a SOLDIER, understood?"

"Yessir!" Cloud stood, saluted smartly and held the pose until Angeal crossed his arms over his chest and finally let him go with a wave of his hand. He left the man's office more than a little confused. It was like the man understood, almost, how he felt…and there was some real-life advice in there too. The blond knew it was bad to do what he did, of course, and the hints of danger, of warning in Hewley's voice let him know he did too.

* * *

A few days after his encounter with Angeal Hewley he got another letter from his mom, this time in a padded envelope. That night he left a small packet of seeds propped up against one of the pots where it was easy to see. He included a quick note too apologizing again for the destruction of the sprout and brief instructions for caring for the Nibel wildflowers his mom relayed to him.

He felt a little strange about leaving it there; asking his mother had been a spur-of-the-moment thing. Still, he had a strange soft spot for ShinRa's mysterious hobby gardener. He was grateful for the distraction they provided during those long trips around and around the gym at least.

When he returned the next evening there was a new plastic cup of damp, fresh soil with a post-it on the side:  _Thanks!_

It was a good feeling to know that someone liked his small gift, that they took the time to plant the seeds and make sure they were watered. Quite honestly he felt ShinRa could use some more compassion. SOLDIER did not seem a breeding ground for such a thing.

For the first time this night there was a SOLDIER Second training late in Gym C, so he skipped it and the woman was gone when he came back around. He finally went to bed a lot happier than he had in a long time.

* * *

"Nah, I can't…Yeah, it's the gym shit I got stuck with after that training mission."

The walk from the elevator to the supply closet in the back of the 48th floor seemed a lot longer than usual. He was now a day under two weeks in to his new duty and it was getting old fast.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," he sighed into his PHS. His friend from his squad, a boy named Anthony, sighed back. "Maybe when I'm free again?"

He apologized again for fucking up and landing himself in hot water to the point where he couldn't hang out at night with his friends. The only time he was grounded in his life was when he was eleven, threw a massive tantrum, and hurled a bowl of cereal through his bedroom window. Being in trouble was an alien feeling, and he wasn't used to it at all.

The door to the closet opened with his ID and he ended his call with Anthony. The bucket was where he left it the evening before. The first jug of soap he was using was nearly gone, so he probably had to open up another one… Cloud squinted at the metal shelf straight ahead to see how much was left and finally noticed the man curiously peeking his head around the back of it.

"Gaia!" Cloud yelled, and he grabbed his chest and danced the couple feet backwards out into the hallway. The man called an apology out to him and Cloud, chuckling mostly out of nerves, walked back in.

"Sorry—you scared me," he panted. "Oh—Commander Hewley?"

The SOLDIER emerged from the small alcove in that L-shaped closet. He was in uniform, armor and all, and his famous Buster Sword rested against the back wall. "…Strife, right?" he asked, folding his arms. After a moment his frown disappeared and he raised his eyebrows. "That's right…you got custodial duty. Are you the one who left me those notes?"

"I—uh, yessir." Cloud could feel heat creeping up his neck to stain his cheeks. "I'm sorry about your pot, Sir."

"We're both off duty. At ease. And don't worry about it. It was cheap." Angeal smiled at him, and he didn't look awkward after the intrusion at all. Cloud, fighting shyness, merely nodded his head. Hewley was very tall and his presence filled the small space.

"I'll just…get the stuff," Cloud muttered half to himself as he grabbed the mop and used it to wheel the bucket to the sink (squeezing past Angeal in the process).

"So it's the gyms you're cleaning?"

"Yessir," Cloud answered, self-consciously aware that Angeal's eyes were on his back. The manual labor provided a convenient distraction.

Angeal hummed and stepped away. The blond finished filling the bucket and scurried back to the shelf, where he opened up a new jug of soap. He finished preparing his stuff and, noticing that Angeal was nowhere to be seen, crept into the back of the closet to see what he was up to. The SOLDIER sat at a stool that previously must have been tucked underneath the small table.

The fluorescent light was harsh on Angeal's features, making his cheekbones sharper and concentrated expression seem eerily dark. Cloud was small enough to squeeze between Angeal and the wall and he did so cautiously, hesitant to seem too buddy-buddy with one of the very top SOLDIERs.

"…What are you doing?" he whispered.

The SOLDIER turned his head and smiled. He answered softly, "Trimming the Azaleas." Cloud squinted at the cup Angeal was bent over, a standard pair of ShinRa office scissors in hand. "Would you like to see?"

"Yeah. Please."

Angeal shifted his stool to the left a few inches, the sound of metal jarring in the quiet otherwise broken only by the faint humming of the light. Cloud shuffled closer and crouched so he was on Hewley's level.

The flower in question was a few-inches-tall pretty green thing. Red tendrils grew out of small bulbs on the stem near the bottom and wound upwards and around several times.

"It's beautiful, Sir," Cloud breathed.

"It is, isn't it?" Angeal smiled encouragingly. "The red parts have to be cut off, though. Look." He pointed to a spot about halfway up, where the red tendrils fused together briefly before continuing upwards. It formed a tiny red ring around the single, fragile stem. Cloud reached out and Angeal let him take it, his fingers warm where they brushed. "If I don't cut it off the flower will die. It strangles itself."

Cloud gently passed it back. "Wow. That's horrible."

"They can only grow under careful supervision."

"Well…it seems like they're in good hands, Sir," Cloud murmured as he watched Angeal raise the scissors and carefully snip off the red vines. When finished the man picked up another cup with the same plant and passed it over for Cloud to see. This one had two red rings, and the one closest to the dirt had begun to squeeze, the stem bulging out slightly just above and beneath it.

"I'm sorry," Cloud blurted as he handed it back, "I'm just surprised you're the one who owns all these."

Angeal laughed. "Really?"

"Yeah." Cloud flushed. "I was trying to figure out who. I didn't think it would be…"  _Someone so famous_ , he wanted to finish.

The man grinned at him, as indulgently amused as ever. His presence and calm way of tending to these plants put Cloud at ease. "A First Class?" he asked.

"…I guess."

With a shrug, Angeal answered, "This has been a hobby of mine for a long time."

The blond watched as Angeal picked up the small watering can. "I had better get started, Sir," he said reluctantly. "Good luck."

"Have a good evening, Strife."

"You too."

Cloud left to clean Gym A, feeling a little overwhelmed.  _Angeal Hewley, huh…_

Who would have guessed?

When he next went back to change his water Hewley was gone, the stool tucked in, the light off, and other than the few tiny red tendrils in the trash there was no record anyone had been there at all.

* * *

After a long day spent, frankly, in a bit of a disbelieving daze, Cloud was hesitant to return to his assigned chore the next evening. With a whole 22-something hours to think about it he supposed it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Angeal Hewley was a nice guy—everyone said so. Despite being the one to oversee a lot of the discipline issues (and more importantly Cloud's most recent one) he still was not…threatening.

It was an immense disappointment to arrive that day and realize there was no one else around. The blond peeked around the shelf at the small nook—nothing. With a frown he went about his usual routine. Water in bucket, soap in bucket filled with water, mop in soapy water-filled bucket.

The two first gyms were utterly normal, and as Cloud later changed out the gray, slimy water a few solid metallic taps came from the still-open doorway.

"Ah, good, I managed to catch you." Angeal Hewley smiled at him, one knuckle still poised against the doorframe. Cloud had it set to stay open until he left, finding the poor lighting inside was a little unsettling alone.

"General Hewley."

"We're off duty," Hewley reminded him gently. "How was your day?"

"It was good… um, how was yours?"

Cloud moved out of the way as Angeal squeezed past him. "Long," the man sighed and pulled out the stool. Cloud hovered behind him and peered over his shoulder as he flicked on the light.

"Ah, Sir…did you have something you wanted to ask me?"

"Yes, actually—about the seeds you gave me. Do you know anything else about them?"

"Um, like what?"

"Any special care the flowers need once they bloom? What kind of seeds?"

Cloud scrunched his face up in thought. It was hard to think with a SOLDIER so close and watching him expectantly, especially one as influential (and handsome, embarrassingly enough) as Angeal. "Well, uh, other than what my mom told me? We just leave them alone outside…oh, and it's usually cold where I live. These grow in the summer but our summers aren't anything like how it is outside now. Uh, and I think they're a…per…ennial?" He glanced at the man, confused. "If you want I can ask her for more information but there isn't any internet or phone service in Nibelheim. It would take about a week, probably."

Hewley was smiling at him. "No, you don't have to do that. Thank you for offering. I guess we'll wait and see then, huh?"

The trooper nodded, strangely shy when Angeal smiled like that. He wasn't usually affected by SOLDIERs, as evidenced by the shit show that landed him here in the first place. "Okay," he answered, and hoped Angeal couldn't see the low blush on his cheeks.

They bade each other good evening, and Cloud went on his way.

Hewley came the next day, and the day after that. Although he tried not to show it too much Cloud was very pleased. It was a terrific secret, really, being friendly—friends?—with a SOLDIER  _First_. Angeal minded his own business but always greeted Cloud warmly. He showed him how to identify the Mideelian Hydrangeas he had by the way the flowers presented themselves in a sphere, and told him how much water to give a wasteland plant that needed so little you had to use an eyedropper instead of the watering can.

The day after that Angeal did not appear. After lingering for a while, just in case he decided to show up like he had that one day Cloud shrugged and went to the Thirds gym. There was dried, crusted blood on the floor near the weapons rack—ew—and it took a good 15 minutes to wash it all away. Grumpy and exhausted, he finished Gym A and moved on to B. It was blessedly cleaner than the previous, and Cloud's brain switched off as he started his endless circles.

As he jogged by the shelves of weaponry the glittering colors of the materia caught his eye. He slowed down, breathing heavily with his hands on his hips, and glanced at the door. It was closed and would not open again until someone came along with ID that allowed them to enter, but there was a decent-sized panel of glass in the door so one could look in from the hallway.

Thus far he had rarely run into anybody in this wing so late at night. As long as Angeal Hewley didn't walk by on his way to the closet he should be fine…

After glancing again to make sure he was in the clear he stuck the mop in the bucket and strolled over to the long, neat lines of low-leveled materia. There were so many kinds. The regular army only learned how to use Materia in their second year in the program after proving they at least had the ability to survive that long. Many members of the infantry took the SOLDIER entry exam after all, usually once they were materia-proficient.

A blue one caught his attention first. He picked it up and rolled it around in his hand. It was warm. It was a bit heavier than he imagined it would be as well. He frowned at it, peering into the depths of the thing, wondering how people actually casted magic.

He'd heard it described in terms of 'reaching inside yourself,' but what the hell did that mean? Bringing the small orb to his eye, he could see that it wasn't completely opaque; parts of it seemed to…swirl.

With both hands cupped around it he felt a little surge of power, a small tingling at the tips of his fingers, a prickle on the back of his neck. He tried to clear his mind and focused intently on the materia, trying to tap into some latent power everyone seemed to have.

Nothing happened. Cloud grit his teeth and tried harder, feeling suddenly constipated—his face reddened with effort and his arms shook.

The empty gym then rang with the sound of the door's lock being overridden, and the door slid open. Cloud gasped and dropped the materia. He managed to catch it, passing it between his hands frantically once or twice, and after managing to get a secure hold on the thing whirled around.

A familiar SOLDIER First had his arms crossed in the doorway. He was too far away for Cloud to see his expression, and for a long moment Cloud clutched the thing to his chest, frozen, and stared.

"I have a feeling you're not supposed to touch that," he called, his voice echoing faintly off the tall ceiling and far walls.

Cloud didn't know what to say and wordlessly put it back. Angeal started heading his way and Cloud scurried back to his bucket, wrapping his guilty fingers around the mop handle.

"I—I was just looking at it for a second, Sir," he stammered.

When the man reached him his stern expression did not fade but he said, "You forgot the bracer."

"What?"

"It's dangerous to cast a spell while holding the materia in your hand. Some people prefer it. General Rhapsodos is one of those people, when it isn't equipped on his sword, but generally speaking, use a bracer or some type of bangle."

Weakly, Cloud said, "Oh."

Angeal went around to the other side of the materia rack and picked up one of the metal bracelets at the bottom that Cloud missed.

"You probably think I'm some kind of—I don't know," Cloud babbled nervously as Angeal locked it into place around his wrist. "First with the mission thing and now this."

Angeal hmmed neutrally as he picked up the materia Cloud hastily returned. "I don't know if you know this, but I mentor a Second Class, Zack Fair. He's a troublemaker—he probably gets up to more in one day than most people around here do in a month. So if you're worried that my opinion of you turned sour because you wanted to check out a materia, relax." Cloud did just that, rather humbled by the SOLDIER. Their relationship was hardly intimate; Cloud barely knew the guy. Their conversations were friendly but not deep—what  _did_  Angeal think about him, really, anyway?

Angeal's voice then turned stern. "That said, I was looking for you which is why I passed by, but it could have been anyone. Be more careful."

The man's disappointment cut through Cloud like a knife. "Yessir," he mumbled, and he did not envy his student at all, if Hewley talked to him in that tone of voice too.

"Okay." Angeal settled his hands on his hips. "Crash course in materia."

"Sir, you don't have—"

"It's alright. Now. Hold out your wrist."

Cloud presented the bracer—a metal cuff that went from his wrist to halfway up his forearm. Angeal placed the blue materia into the circular depression closest to his wrist; there was one more. Other bracers in the pile had room for three, four or even five materia. The Buster Sword even had room for a few in the blade itself, he knew. The materia clicked in, now snugly in place.

"Everyone has MP, as you know. Over time if you practice you'll be able to cast more spells, or stronger ones. This is a low-levelled one, so it won't cost you too much. Some people have naturally high MP and tend to be mages. What kind of materia is this?"

Before Cloud had to cup both hands around the sphere and concentrate to feel its presence but the bracer made that elusive feeling from before easy to access. He felt it everywhere. It was strange but not awful.

"Blizzard, I think."

Angeal's lips quirked. "Tell me you didn't guess that because of the color."

"No. It feels… like a blizzard?"

The SOLDIER chuckled at Cloud's wide-eyed look. "Very good. To cast a spell you have to concentrate that energy you feel and make it solidify somewhere. It's easiest to send it out of the hand of the arm on which the bracer is equipped."

Angeal looked at him expectantly and Cloud closed his eyes as he turned his focus inward.

"…There's so  _much_ ," he muttered after half a minute of standing still. "I'm having trouble gathering anything. It's all over."

Luckily for Cloud, Angeal knew what he was talking about, probably from teaching other students in his time. "That's normal," Angeal assured, "It means you have a good amount of MP to draw from, but it can be overwhelming. I'm going to touch your stomach."

Cloud jumped and opened his eyes as Angeal did just as he had warned, two fingers pressing firmly to his stomach just above his belly button, tight with the strain of casting the spell. "This usually helps people concentrate their energy. The physical sensation helps you track, and it is usually easiest to bring to your core."

"Ah, okay." Cloud closed his eyes again and Angeal added a little pressure to his fingers.

"Feel that? Try to center your energy where my fingers are. I won't move them until you say so."

"Okay…" Cloud tried to draw there the energy he felt, magnified by the bracer. It tingled from the tips of his fingers to his toes, even prickled at his scalp, and seemed much too  _busy_ to bring anywhere. To his surprise Angeal was right, however—it was much easier to focus on that touch to his belly. He grit his teeth and focused for a short while.

"It's there," he said, breathless.

"Good," Angeal responded. "We'll travel to your hand then. Follow my fingers."

Angeal moved, tracing a firm path up the center of Cloud's torso. The blond breathed shallowly as he kept his energy focused there. It got harder when they passed his sternum and he said hastily, "Slow down, I'll lose you." More slowly, a centimeter at a time, the SOLDIER's fingers travelled upwards until finally running along Cloud's collarbones to his shoulder. They then moved down the teen's arm and to the bracer.

Quietly, Angeal asked, "You got it?"

"—Yeah."

"Remember," the SOLDIER said as he finally moved his reassuring touch away, "You have a blizzard. Visualize ice."

Cloud's hand buzzed with magical energy—he had so much control over it like this, as compared to before when it was everywhere at once. He squeezed his eyes shut and brought it all to his palm.

A coldness on his hand made him open his eyes. The force of the spell buffeted him backwards but he caught himself, pushing all the energy he could through the bracer and then out of his body. When he finished there was a sizeable spray of ice a dozen or two feet away. Most of it was just tiny shards, almost snow, but there were two nicely-sized, hefty chunks of ice. That could have done  _damage_.

"Sir!" Cloud exclaimed, delighted.

Angeal looked proud. He crossed his arms and gave Cloud a warm smile. "Very well done, Cloud."

The trooper ambled over to his results, his feet heavy. He stumbled and then Angeal was there to unclasp the bracer. "Careful," he murmured, "You expended more energy than we thought you would. You'll be tired."

The ice was melting unnaturally quickly, forming a puddle on the floor. The SOLDIER answered his unspoken question: "These gyms are treated with chemicals to withstand SOLDIER level spells. Totally inflammable."

Cloud said, now panting, hands on his knees, "That's cool."

Angeal tossed him the mop with a grin. "Clean up your mess. Meet me at the closet when you're done."

Cloud nodded, watched him go, and glanced at his hands. Crazy to think he did that. Angeal really was an excellent teacher.

It turned out that the SOLDIER needed his help transporting some of the plants to his office. "I figured you'd appreciate a break from the mopping," Angeal quipped as he eyed the exhausted-looking boy, "But I understand if you're too tired."

"No, I'm okay."

With their hands full of tiny cups they left the closet. As they walked Angeal explained that in his office he had some baby sprouts that needed the intense light in the closet more than the ones they held did, so they were swapping. Even the SOLDIER floor was quieter at this time of night, with just a few people walking around. The floor would hardly ever be totally deserted—SOLDIERs returned from missions at all hours, after all. It was interesting to see everything without a crowd, however.

This was the place he'd be someday. Would he miss the crackling paint and odor of the regular army's wing?

Angeal gently nudged Cloud out of the way; the blond had decided to space out in front of his office door. He mumbled an apology and watched as Angeal juggled the cups into one arm so he could use his ID—he huffed in agitation and Cloud smiled, charmed to see the super SOLDIER doing something so… small and clumsy. They got in and carefully made the swap.

"Your office isn't as scary when you're not in trouble," Cloud commented, trying and failing to not stare at a small framed picture on the desk of Angeal, Genesis and—Sephiroth. He'd heard they were close, but… wow.

Frowning, Angeal asked, "You thought my office was scary?" He peered around the small space at the chairs opposite the desk as if evaluating the effectiveness of his feng shui.

"Not really," added Cloud hastily, laughing because he couldn't help it. "I was just anxious. Actually, I think your office is the most welcoming I've seen. I haven't been in a lot of SOLDIER offices, but…"

Angeal seemed to appreciate the comment nonetheless, sending Cloud a fond look as he held the door open with his hip so the infantryman could slip out. They turned a corner and Cloud bit back a groan as a familiar figure casually saluted Angeal a few dozen feet away, walking toward them.

"Sir," Luxiere called, and then, "Strife."

Cloud could not salute with his arms full and mumbled an apology, his gaze slipping to his boots. They moved past the SOLDIER without incident, but Angeal knew—of course—that he had been the one in charge of that mission. The blond tried to act normal, but his change in mood must have been obvious because when they finished setting up the new cups in the closet Angeal, before leaving, placed a big, heavy hand on his shoulder.

The crappy lighting in the closet did interesting things to Hewley's face. His cheekbones seemed sharper than usual but the hard cut of his jaw, slightly more stubbled than usual due to the late hour, was softer. His eyes were big, a calm, mako blue, and Cloud couldn't pull his gaze away from them.

The hand on his shoulder moved upward, not quite cupping his cheek but brushing against it for the briefest of moments, and continued on to sink into the soft, fluffy hair on top of Cloud's head. He ruffled Cloud's hair, making them both smile, and kept his hand there after it fell still.

"Chin up, infantryman," he ordered.

"Yessir."

One last pat, and then Angeal slipped out the door. Cloud stared at the bucket for a long moment, unable to remember if he'd done all the gyms or not.

"Dammit," he sighed, but at what, he was unsure.

* * *

Two days later Cloud stumbled sleepy and blurry-eyed into the Firsts' gym, the last one of the night, and, upon seeing that there were people inside, apologized and backed out, but a voice called to him as the door was closing as he skittered out.

The blond poked his head back in and clapped a hand to his face in embarrassment. "Oh, sorry, Sir," he called back, lifting a hand in a wave. Angeal beckoned him over. Beside him was another SOLDIER doing squats, who smiled warmly at him.

"Hey," the young man said, not breathless at all from the vigorous squats.

A tad shyly Cloud responded in kind and ambled over, the bucket loud as it rolled across the floor.

"Evening," Angeal greeted. "This is my student, Zack Fair—I mentioned him to you once, I'm not sure if you remember. Zack, Cloud Strife."

Zack finished his squats and shook Cloud's hand. "Nice to meetcha. This is the plant kid, Angeal?"

Cloud let out a noise halfway between a laugh and a gasp of disbelief and Angeal snorted. "Yes, he's been helping me." To Cloud he said, hands on his hips, "There's no need to hang around if you don't want; I just thought I would introduce you. Don't worry about cleaning this gym, either. You look tired."

Cloud, who was leaning against the handle of the mop for support at this point, smiled gratefully. Despite his tiredness he stuck around for a while longer though, watching Angeal make Zack run through a series of complicated sword katas. He demonstrated with a practice sword, not the large one on his back, and Cloud made a mental note to ask the SOLDIER about it if he ever got the chance.

He watched Zack, enthralled. Judging by his uniform Zack was a Second Class, and he was so  _good_ —everything he did looked so effortless and perfect, though Angeal evidently found the occasional error and would correct him on it.

Quietly, from his side, Angeal asked him, "Are you interested in swords?"

Cloud had not noticed the man coming over to him and smiled sheepishly. "Yeah," he answered, staring at the Second. "We've only used them a few times though—the reg army's all about guns."

"You'll get your chance. Those interested in SOLDIER can take extra classes on weekends. They're usually taught by a group of Seconds, but Sephiroth and I occasionally teach one."

"Sephiroth?"

"Yup." Angeal chuckled but caught Cloud's expression as he glanced over at him. "You're a fan?"

"I'm—" Cloud swallowed thickly and looked into the bottom of the bucket, gripping the mop tightly. "Yeah, I guess. Not one of his crazy fans—a normal one."

The blond's face was purposely blank and Angeal laughed again.

"I see. I'm sure he'd appreciate your…support." Angeal fell quiet, both of them studying Zack, who was now stretching, and then the older man asked, "Oh—do you know when the next Silver Elite meeting is?"

"Next Thursday night," Cloud replied automatically, "Though we're in the rec room on the 20th floor instead of the usual place because there's some special shareholder event reserved."

"Ah." Angeal smiled and nudged him knowingly before leaving him to stride towards Zack. Cloud, realizing his mistake, twisted his mouth but the SOLDIER spoke before he could. "Go to bed, Strife," he ordered, and his voice was authoritative.

"Nice meeting you dude," Zack called, waving him goodbye.

Cloud did not think much of his disclosure about being in the Silver Elite until the next evening when enough time had passed, with Cloud hanging around in the closet waiting, for him to conclude that Angeal was not paying him a visit.

Was he upset that Cloud admired Sephiroth? Hewley did not seem the jealous type like that, and, most importantly—why would he care what an insignificant trooper like him thought?

Cloud chewed his lip in a strange panic for about five minutes, worrying irrationally that Angeal hated him or was disappointed in him. Just because he idolized Sephiroth did not mean that he did not like Angeal too, he concluded wildly—in fact, he quite liked Angeal a lot. A whole lot.

A figure passed the doorway. Cloud shook himself, calmed the fuck down, and followed a Third into the closest gym. "Excuse me," he called, poking his head in, "Do you happen to know where General Angeal Hewley is?"

"Uhh," said the SOLDIER, scratching the back of his neck, "Mission, I think? I saw him all packed up on his way to transport this morning."

"Oh. Alright. Thanks."

Cloud retreated to the closet, feeling fucking stupid. A mission was… unfortunate. Due to the fortnight or so of speculation and note-passing before he figured out the identity of the mysterious gardener there were only two days left of his punishment. He had wanted to spend his remaining time with his new friend, but alas. Missions were a critical part of SOLDIER.

It was a good thing Angeal had taught him a thing or two. It was the least he could do to take care of the man's plants for him the last two days of his sentence. He watered them with care, made sure they got enough light, and even spoke to them for a short while, rambling on about patrols and drills like the leaves were friends who actually cared to listen.

On his last day he even cut off the red rings around the Azaelas, carefully disposing of the clippings. The plants got extra water in case Angeal didn't come back for a few days more; he would be unable to check up on them. He paid extra attention to the little Nibel wildflower, planted from the seeds from home. It would be a shame if it died now. When the last gym was clean and the bucket was empty and everything was away he clicked off the light and let the door shut, waiting for the next troublesome bastard that had to take over his job.

The following morning was awful, as expected. Because it was Sunday the building was not as crowded as it usually was but that meant his CO was waiting for him with no distractions. He handed Han his ID card and stood quietly at attention as the man fed it into a small machine, removing his special clearances. It came packaged with another lecture about respecting authority, luckily for him.

Feeling shitty, Cloud eventually left.

* * *

ShinRa was just so goddamn unfair, and he was powerless. There was not even a closet full of plants and a kind SOLDIER to distract him. Scuffing his feet, he trudged to the end of the 30th floor and waited for the elevator. Like always it was packed and he squeezed on. It was never worth it to take the stairs in this building, not with how many floors it had.

"Plant boy!"

Cloud peered around, jolted out of his thoughts. It was generally taboo to talk during an elevator ride, usually because everyone then had to listen to your conversation (and you never knew who was eavesdropping in this building). Zack Fair really did not seem the type to care much about that kind of thing.

No one was really listening to them but Cloud still felt slightly uncomfortable. Zack squeezed past some people and came over to his side, slinging an arm around his shoulders. Cloud went stiff and still but Zack smiled at him, as friendly as he had been the first time he met him. "What's up?"

"Um. Not much, I guess."

"You look kinda down." Zack squeezed his shoulder. "I'm not doin' anything, ya wanna come over?"

Cloud was taken aback. "You serious?"

"Yeah, why not? You seem like a cool guy."

When they arrived at Zack's floor the SOLDIER steered Cloud out of the elevator, arm still around him. He was a chatty guy but Cloud didn't mind; he tended to be more on the quiet side anyway.

"So what's up?" Zack asked, as he pulled out a Wutaian menu.

Cloud told him about standard reg army things—his classes, how he liked them, his bunkmates, his patrols. For everything he told him Zack had a hilarious story of his own, and soon Cloud began to relax, getting over the knowledge that he was in a SOLDIER Second's apartment. When the food came they ate it on the couch in front of the TV—Zack even paid for it—and the blond decided that he liked Zack a whole lot.

"How long has Angeal been your mentor?"

"Mm, a little over…three years? He scooped me up when I was a Reg. Guided me through the SOLDIER application process and anything. Guess I showed a lot of potential back then."

"Ah, wow." Cloud didn't know anybody with a SOLDIER mentor, but he'd heard of one or two. Then, smiling, he asked, "Was he as into gardening back then as he is now?"

That cracked Zack up. "Always! He's from Banora, right? Same as General Rhapsodos. Genesis complains all the time about how he'd try to get him to look at plants and stuff as a kid. He got me a cactus when I got promoted to Second, 'cause it's the easiest to take care of, and I killed it."

Cloud soaked up all the information about Angeal like a sponge. Zack, as his mentee, had a very personal relationship with him, and often saw a completely different side of Angeal that the public did not. Cloud would never have guessed from looking at the poster over his desk or hearing the gossip about the man he heard all the time that Angeal was actually the kind of man to come over and cook breakfast for his hungover friends, or to release bugs he found around the building back into the wild, or the type who slept in extremely late on weekends, and it usually took Zack coming over and threatening to do something to make his place messy that finally made him get up.

It was…refreshing, and it made Cloud look forward to seeing Angeal again.

But—now that his punishment was over, would he ever interact with the SOLDIER again? Cloud frowned, and Zack tapped his shin with his foot.

"Hey. You feel like talkin' about why you seemed so blue earlier? Bluer than your uniform, I mean."

The other man's crooked smile cheered him up, a bit, and Cloud chuckled gently even as he shook his head. "Nah. But…thanks, Zack. You're a really nice guy. I mean that."

Zack shrugged. "I try, I guess. But I also figured that if Angeal likes you so much I probably would too. And, hey—I had to see if you're as great a guy as he says. The Zack stamp of approval is important, y'know."

"Angeal really said I was a great guy?"

"'Course he did. He likes you. He taught you all about his plants, didn't he?"

Cloud smiled and ducked his face behind his scarf. Thinking about Angeal's apparent affection towards him was not making his cheeks burn, no it was not.

For the next few days things went back to normal. Cloud did his usual thing, an endless schedule of drills, patrols and the occasional pre-SOLDIER track class. He hit the gym, he finally hung out with his reg army friends, he even saw Zack a few times, and he spent a lot of time avoiding SOLDIER Thirds and the guys from his squadron on that Gaia-forsaken mission.

He was…bored, though.

At the Triumvirate meeting that weekend Cloud got a chance to hang out with his Silver Elite buddies and pretend he couldn't see the glowers from the people from Red Leather. There was a rivalry between the fanclubs that mirrored the supposed rivalry between Sephiroth and Genesis. Everyone got along with the Keepers of Honor, though, and Cloud talked with some of them for a time. He wondered what they would think about him being friendly with Angeal Hewley; he didn't dare reveal the information.

"Angeal is coming back in the next day or two," a SOLDIER Third told him knowingly. She seemed ecstatic. "His mission was a bit of a long one; I was worried about him."

Cloud privately hoped he would see the man again, and during the beginning of the next week he finally did. Angeal was in the hallway in uniform despite it being slightly past on-duty hours, and Cloud felt slightly awkward coming up to him in his jeans but he wasn't about to let him slip away.

"Sir!" Cloud called, and whapped him on the shoulder.

Angeal turned, and a wide smile replaced the frown he had been sporting. "Cloud," he greeted, looking him up and down. "Good to see you."

"You too. How was your mission?"

"It was fine. Beautiful scenery."

Cloud had a feeling Angeal couldn't tell him where it was, so he did not ask. Instead, scuffing one sneaker on the heel of the other, he said, "I, uh, actually took care of your plants while you were away. Or I did until my ID clearance was taken away."

"You did? Thank you, really. I'm heading there right now, if you wanted to come?"

Cloud tagged along. It was strange not being able to get to the same areas he had been able to for three weeks but Angeal made sure he didn't get left behind, telling him vague details about the mission. He seemed exhausted still; rather than the neat, trimmed patch of hair he usually had on the end of his chin it had spread over his cheeks and jaw. Cloud supposed it was hard to find time to do that kind of thing out on the field. It was a hot look, though, and Cloud hardly minded.

Somehow it felt great to be back in the closet he had hated so much. Angeal's presence probably played a factor. They flicked on the light, Cloud utterly ignored the mop, and they crowded around the seedling cups in the back. Some looked fine, others looked thirsty, and…

"Oh no," Cloud breathed, pressing close to Angeal's side as he reached for the small Nibel wildflower. The dirt was cracked and the plant looked decidedly brown. "It died…"

Angeal took it from his hands and brought it to his face, peering at it. "I don't think so. Grab the watering can?"

Cloud did, and Angeal dribbled just a bit of water into the cup. The dirt absorbed it greedily, and he waited a minute before adding a little bit more. "It looks bad, but I've seen much worse. We'll take careful care of it, and it will bounce back." He handed over the eyedropper, and Cloud gave it a little bit of water under his watchful eye.

"You think so?"

Angeal placed it carefully back under the light. "Sure. I would think a flower from Nibelheim is made of strong stuff."

"I hope so," Cloud said, sending Angeal a grateful look. "…I'm glad you're back, Sir. I missed you."

His words lingered in the small space between them and he mumbled something meaningless as he turned his head to the side. Angeal's warm hand came down on his shoulder like he had once before. But unlike last time, where his hand had just barely brushed against his cheek, he cupped it fully. The skin of Angeal's palms was rough and slightly scratchy, no doubt the work of both his sword work and his gardening hobby, and it sent ticklish shivers through Cloud's body as the hand continued upwards after a moment to sink into his hair.

The soft smile on Angeal's face didn't waver. Cloud didn't know why Angeal liked doing this particular gesture to him so much, but liked it. "I missed you too," the SOLDIER murmured, ruffling his spikes. His fingers tightened into a gentle hold and he used his grip to playfully jerk Cloud's head back and forth a few times.

"Knock it off," Cloud protested, pushing the man away as he ducked his head to hide his blush.

They left together, but it was unfortunately at the same time that some SOLDIER Thirds were leaving the closest gym. It was not a random group of Thirds, however; it was the three men, the fourth being Luxiere, who Cloud had defied in that training exercise.

"Strife," said the man on the right, Chapman, who Cloud had never liked. Some of his reg army buddies had had issues with him in the past. "With the head of Discipline and Conduct, eh? I guess he's serving his sentence with you, then, Sir?" He smiled familiarly at Angeal; perhaps they knew each other.

They were all off-duty but Cloud still didn't dare start shit with the other three, and especially not in front of Angeal. Even if there wasn't going to necessarily be a penalty on his official record he highly doubted Angeal would look at him fondly after that. As it was his fists clenched and he glanced at the wall, holding himself back from doing something he would regret.

Angeal did not respond for a moment, and then he hummed. When he spoke his voice was stern. "Cloud Strife has served his punishment and gone through all the necessary channels correctly, so as far as I am concerned, the case is closed. Bringing it up without reason is beneath SOLDIER Third Classes. Dismissed."

Hewley was just as off-duty as the others but no one would ever argue with his commands or question that authority. They left and Cloud's posture gradually relaxed, but his gaze stayed averted.

"Thanks," he muttered, his voice filled with shame.

"It's nothing."

Cloud got off the elevator on his floor, and when he looked back Angeal offered him a small, encouraging smile, just for his eyes, before the doors shut and obscured him from view.

* * *

The next time they met, Angeal was with friends. Cloud spotted them before they did him, but that made sense. While out on patrol in the various sectors of the city Cloud wore his helmet and became one of the many faceless troopers tasked with keeping Midgar in order. He waved, though, at Zack, who was sort of looking his way. The First eventually spotted him and jogged over—he seemed the type to have a ton of friends in the regular army.

"Yo!" Zack greeted.

"Zack. It's Cloud."

"Cloooud?" Zack echoed, drawing it out in his surprise. "Hey, buddy!" He turned around and waved his companions over. Cloud straightened up and hoped his uniform would pass an impromptu inspection. He had his gun and baton and everything that was regulation but things were often lax when the reg army couldn't get enough time or summon enough resources. He didn't know what kind of person Genesis Rhapsodos was, or whether he would care.

Angeal and Genesis joined them. Cloud had only ever seen Genesis from afar, much like Sephiroth, and the man was impressive in person. "Sirs," Cloud greeted respectfully as they approached, saluting.

Angeal's eyes went all squinty for a moment, and then he grinned. "Cloud?"

"Ah, Yessir." Cloud beamed behind his helmet.

"Are you on patrol?"

"Yeah. For another three hours."

Zack waved his hands. "Come eat with us! Can we relieve him of duty, Angeal?"

"We shouldn't," Angeal sighed, folding his arms. "Skipping duty is hardly honorable. …But I'll admit I'd like it if you could join, Strife. Would you like to grab lunch with us?"

"Yes," Cloud said, pulling off his helmet and clicking the safety on his gun. When clearly off-duty he repeated himself, "Hell yes. Thank you, Sirs."

It turned out that the three men were in Sector 8 because Genesis had insisted they see a show at the local theater. Cloud shook his hand and tried to not look too intimidated, but the man seemed kind enough.

"Is this the one you said likes plants?"

Angeal started laughing, but Cloud grew flustered. "I don't—have a real  _hobby_ for them," he insisted, "I'm just normally interested in, uh, plants. I guess."

Folding his arms, Angeal questioned, "What, so you don't share with me a passion for flowers?"

"Uh—that's not it, I—"

"Quit while you're ahead, Spike," Zack advised.

Genesis was, Cloud found, slightly overwhelming, but luckily he didn't have to sit next to him. At a booth at a nearby restaurant the four men sat, Cloud and Genesis on the inside seats against a wall while Angeal and Zack sat on the outside. It was a pretty broad bench, but then, Angeal was a pretty broad man, and with every few movements their legs or sides would touch. He could have stood to scoot over a few inches, but Cloud wasn't going to say anything.

"It's the lighting," Genesis was saying about the production the other three were about to see, "Although there are a number of things that I have heard are superb about the show, the atmosphere they create in the second act when—"

It was all fascinating, really, and Genesis was so pretty Cloud could have honestly zoned out and been happy staring at him as he spoke for an hour, Cloud was more interested in the man sitting next to him.

"You okay? You seem nervous," Angeal asked him at one point. Cloud could have sworn he was getting closer and closer, because he hadn't been almost pressed up against the wall earlier, and he hadn't had to crane his neck back to make eye contact with the SOLDIER either. It was a…cozy sort of caging in, and he hardly minded. "If it's Gen, don't be. He's harmless."

The redhead was busy fishing the fruit out of a bright orange cocktail with his stirrer, and Cloud shook his head. "No, it's not him. Quarterly evaluations are this week."

"The only ones who need to be nervous are those at the bottoms of their classes, which isn't you. You'll be fine."

"Yeah," Cloud blandly responded.

Angeal confided in him, "You are resilient. Chin up, infantryman."

Cloud didn't trust (or even like) a lot of SOLDIERs but Angeal was definitely one he approved of. Angeal just had something about him that made people want to trust in him, and if Angeal said it, well, hell, Cloud would do his best to believe.

* * *

Towards the end of Angeal's working hours on a Thursday someone knocked harshly on his door. He frowned but allowed them to access, and a stony-faced Cloud Strife entered. He shut the door behind him with his foot and took a few steps into the room, stopping short in front of the desk.

"Cloud?" Angeal asked. Then: "What's wrong?"

The blond's breathing was erratic, and his shoulders were stiff. "Sir," he said, his voice raspy, "Angeal. Can I talk to you?"

"Of course," the older man responded, concern lacing his voice. He gestured for Cloud to get closer and Cloud went around the back of the desk. He leaned against it and reached with a shaking hand into his pocket, pulling out a sweaty, folded piece of paper.

"It's my evaluation," Cloud said softly, passing it over. "…I had it with Han just now."

Angeal unfolded the paper but only glanced at it for maybe a second before placing it face-down on his desk. "Tell me what happened."

The infantryman bit his lip and stared at the line of small plastic cups lining the windowsill against the back wall. He had placed them there himself.

"Apparently my 'altercation' with SOLDIER will be a detriment to my chances for eventually becoming a Third Class," he said, his voice flat. "Although the issue is resolved just having a report like that in my permanent file will come up for review when I apply to get into the program. He said…" Cloud faltered, sucking in a shaky breath as his hands clenched in his lap, "If I had just kept my head down and done what they told me to, I wouldn't have to deal with this."

The blond's head ducked down and his spine drooped—Angeal stood and started rubbing his back, engulfing him in something like a hug. "Hey, hey," he said in a soothing voice, probably afraid Cloud was crying. The blond lifted his head though and his eyes were dry, just hard with anger.

"What the  _fuck_ is this, Angeal? How can they seriously hold this against me? I didn't even do anything  _that_ bad, and now I might not get into SOLDIER because of it!?"

The teen was growing hysterical and Angeal gently shook his shoulders. "Calm down. I would not worry, Cloud. They're trying to scare you into staying on the straight and narrow for the rest of your time at ShinRa."

"No, it didn't seem that way. They said you guys will see I'm a liability. I have 'a record of encouraging rebellion.'"

"…Cloud," Angeal said, his hand still stroking warm paths up and down Cloud's back. "I'll be honest. The conduct report I was given was not very detailed. I know bits and pieces, but I didn't care to learn more at the time. Would you…want to tell me about it?"

The blond hesitated, but ultimately began to relay the story.

"We were out near Junon for a sim. Everybody knew it was just practice, and I did too—but they had us move through a few blocks of old town, you know, the abandoned part a few miles away. The mission was to move through the area to a rendezvous point we had on our maps and take out any monsters we encountered on the way there. It was going pretty fine at first, I guess, but the Thirds were being assholes."

" _Remember, we're trying to get past the city walls," one of the boys in Cloud's squad crackled over his radio. The feed went straight into his helmet, but with typical ShinRa reg army equipment the sound of Cloud's labored breathing nearly drowned it out._

" _Roger. Where are you guys?"_

" _By the old billboard. It's got some kind of cup on it?"_

" _Okay… I see it. I'm heading there. Hold your position."_

_Cloud clutched his gun as he climbed over piles of rubble and ducked under the metal beams of abandoned buildings. This was not the first time he had been in the old part of Junon, as ShinRa loved to use it for their training missions, but every time he was there he ended up exploring a different part._

_One of his COs radioed in, and he sounded pissed. "Where the fuck are you guys? Only half an hour left_   _until you're officially out of time. Strife, your GPS says you're by yourself in the middle of fucking nowhere. Hustle, princess!"_

_Cloud rolled his eyes and continued on his way to find his friends. He didn't dare complain about them to the other guys in his squad, because their comm devices were all open and they would overhear him. The billboard in question, an old, faded thing, was close by._

_Luckily he did not encounter any large groups of monsters on the way there. They probably wouldn't have been a problem for him if he had; his rifle had more than enough bullets to last him the rest of the exercise. He took out a few stragglers as he turned onto what used to be a main road, lined with smaller buildings, all with broken windows and crumbling walls. As he ran down the street he heard what he swore was a cry for help._

" _You guys okay?" he asked, stopping short._

" _Yeah, we're all fine," his friend, Cody, responded immediately. "What's up?"_

" _I thought I heard… I think someone's here. I'm about forty yards east of the billboard. Requesting backup."_

" _We'll be right there."_

_Cloud waited, tense, ears straining to hear the sound again. It came again after a minute—a definite "Help!" The voice sounded young, like a child's._

" _We can see you guys going to assist Strife," Luxiere's said, his voice slightly distorted by the technology. "You said you heard a cry for help?"_

" _Yessir," Cloud said, readying his gun. "Going to investigate once backup has arrived."_

" _Your mission is to come to the rendezvous, not to rescue citizens."_

_Through the headset Cloud heard one of his squadmates inhale sharply in disbelief. After another moment he saw the bright blue uniforms of his three other squadmates come around another large pile of concrete, and he waved them over._

" _Are you serious, Sir?" Cloud asked, dumbfounded._

" _Your_ mission _," another SOLDIER repeated, "Is to meet us here, NOT to rescue civilians. You four are to head in the opposite direction at once."_

" _You've got to be kidding, Sir," Cloud cried. Behind him, he heard the shout again. "Someone is in trouble!"_

" _And you are forbidden from assisting, you little asswipe," Chapman's voice sneered. "This is a direct order—come this way." Their PHSs all beeped again with the coordinates for their destination, a reminder._

_Cloud looked at the others; they all looked as scared as he felt._

' _What do we do,' one of his friends mouthed._

_The cry came yet again, in the same spot and at the same volume, and Cloud made up his mind. "Negative, Commanders," he grunted, "I'm going in."_

" _Cloud," the nearest infantryman protested, sounding torn. "That's a direct order, man."_

" _And that's a KID," Cloud burst, impatient. "You guys are really going to let a bunch of Thirds stop you from saving some kid's life? I get there are orders, but those are shitty." He was fully aware that the SOLDIERs could hear him, but he didn't give a fuck._

" _Strife!" Luxiere, the man in charge, barked. "In a real mission you have to obey your superiors—this may be practice but that doesn't mean you can ignore us. We always tell you what's best, and right now, you need to_ come this way _."_

" _Fuck you," Cloud spat, "This is messed up." He took off his helmet and placed_   _it on the ground where he could retrieve it later. He then fixed his comrades with a pleading look. "Come on, guys."_

_Hesitantly the others followed. They were following, though, which was the point, which meant so much. The four of them ran into one of the nearest buildings, one that used to be a dentistry by the looks of it. The other three were wincing at whatever the SOLDIERs were yelling in the helmets._

_The steps were hazardous and covered in soot and dust, but they made their way upstairs. "Help!" came the cry again, louder, so close—_

_In the corner of one of the rooms on the upper floor they found the source of the noise. It was a large speaker with the same two-second sound-byte running on a loop once every minute. "Help!" cried the voice of a young boy, loud enough to make all of them wince._

_Cloud stared at it, his hands over his ears. "Shit."_

"It was placed there specifically to test us," Cloud sighed tiredly. "To see if we would still follow our CO's orders despite 'distractions.' I obviously failed."

Angeal, now sitting on his desk beside Cloud, let out a great sigh. "I hate when they use those."

"…Mm."

"Cloud. Despite defying your superiors and getting your friends to as well, and even though you were…horribly rude, the kind of soldier I would hate to have on a mission… I think you did the honorable thing." He nudged Cloud's chin with his hand so those unhappy blue eyes would fix on him. "Not everybody feels so strongly about protecting the lives of innocents. I'm proud of you."

The smile he sent was full of acceptance, and for Cloud, so used to being shot down and ribbed by SOLDIERs at every turn, it meant… a lot.

"Proud of me?" Cloud echoed, his voice rough. "I fucked up. I should have just listened."

"You should have," Angeal agreed. "But you didn't. And it was for as good a reason a First Class could hope for. Do you remember what I told you?"

"About waiting? I'll have more chances to do things like that when I'm SOLDIER. For now, try to keep my head down."

"Correct." Angeal tilted his head. "…You want to know something? I did the same thing once. When I was a Second, in Wutai. Ended up saving a real kid." Cloud looked up, his face curious and not upset, and the older man continued, "And Sephiroth, too. Saved a whole family right before we were set to destroy what we thought was an empty town. And Genesis has a horrible record of saying 'no' to authority."

"Really?" Cloud sat a little straighter, clearly interested.

"Really. Come on. I'll tell you about it someplace a bit more comfortable." Angeal stood, and after a moment offered his hand. Cloud did not hesitate to grasp it with his own. Their fingers entwined and Angeal gently led him from the office, Cloud already enraptured by a story of his heroes who were, as it turned out, not that dissimilar from him, the infantryman, after all.

* * *

"Cloud. Hurry up."

"I'm hurrying," Cloud laughed, moving through the hallways at an awkward jog to keep up with Angeal's speed-walking. "Where are we even going?"

"The closet."

"Why?"

"It's a secret."

The blond rolled his eyes but followed without protest, squeezing into the elevator behind the SOLDIER just as the doors closed. They rode it up to the 48th floor and Angeal ushered him into the supply closet in the back corner near the gyms. Cloud went inside, stifling a giggle, and once Angeal let the door shut behind them carefully moved through the pitch darkness.

"Turn on the light, I'm going to trip," Cloud whispered.

His wildly-groping hands were gently captured in Angeal's own, and the man murmured, "Not yet." Cloud's soft laughter came out freely as he was tugged forward, and he tilted his head back for the kisses he knew were coming. Sure enough he felt familiar pressure on his lips, which he reciprocated eagerly. The lack of vision meant Angeal's big, sturdy presence, the ticklishness of his beard, and the smell of his cologne and the mints he was always eating were more vivid than usual.

As nice as that was, and as much as he loved to make out with his boyfriend in the dark, they could do that back at home and  _besides_ , there was apparently a secret—he wanted to know. He nipped at Angeal's lip a little more harshly than he normally would and the man moved back with an exaggerated sound of discomfort.

"You'll heal in like thirty seconds," Cloud accused, pushing up on his tiptoes to nose at Angeal's cheek and kiss him there instead, "What's this secret?"

"Patience is a virtue," Angeal huffed, but led him to the back of the closet and a bit to the left. Angeal pushed down on Cloud's shoulders and the blond sat; SOLDIERs could see in the dark like this, and he trusted Angeal to not make him fall on the ground for a laugh or anything. When he was sitting Angeal kissed the top of his head, warned him he was going to flick on the heat light, and did so.

It took a few moments for Cloud's eyes to adjust, but when they did a wide smile grew on his face.

"Oh, woah!"

"I transplanted it to the big pot this morning," Angeal said proudly.

The small Nibel wildflower seeds Cloud's mother had sent him in the mail had finally bloomed into a still small, but stunning group of flowers. There was one purple, and one blue, one red, and some yellows. Angeal squeezed his shoulder. "They really turned out impressive, didn't they?"

Cloud reached out to gently brush the pad of his thumb against a petal. Despite uncertainty in the beginning, the flowers had blossomed under Cloud's clumsy, but earnest care and Angeal's more expert attentions. With Cloud's SOLDIER exam coming in just over a month, this was just the thing he needed to see.

"Yeah," he agreed, covering the hand on his shoulder with his own. "They really did."


End file.
